Pro-Bone-O! - SFW-ish (Patreon)

Update: Re-wrote the story.  :D

Having successfully gotten Harvey’s full and undivided attention to benefit her climb up the corporate ladder, Judy is determined to take this as far as she can. Rung after rung, fucking her way to the top, stopping only when she's in a seat of authority, barking orders at the underpaid masses. She, however, seems to have overlooked a few glaringly obvious details.

Unlike Birdman, Judy only wears a costume to gain favor with the lawyer. It, however, doesn't give her any super-human abilities...under that gadget-laden utility belt and yards of spandex, she's just a normal, average human. Birdman, on the other hand, is an actual superhero...albeit a washed-up one. Sure, she may have the wherewithal, but Birdman has far, far superior speed and strength...and he can fly...and shoot beams of energy from his fists. Details that she may soon learn to regret having failed to notice.

It's been four hours since Judy sent Harvey a couple of lewd selfies from the break room. Four solid hours she's spent bent over his desk, continuously (and monotonously) being pounded from behind. Sure, he's slowed a few times...long enough to pull out and blow several loads onto her. All over her heart-shaded ass cheeks, up and down her back, in her hair. He even managed to hit the office's twelve-foot ceiling...which, much to Judy's annoyance, drips onto her head occasionally.

Having only had sex with normal humans before this... Ok, well, there was the one time with Industrial Lathe Man...he was kinda fun...but, technically speaking, not a human. ...she has completely failed to take into account the sexual drive, staying power, and repeatability of 'supers'.

Drenched in sweat, Judy groans through gnashed teeth, sore from head to toe. Back throbbing from the endless pounding, her perfect D-cups aching from swaying in endless circles...even the tips of her nipples red and angry looking from ceaselessly dragging across the leather desk blotter. Knees knocking and growing weaker by the second, Judy pleads with Harvey.

Judy: Huuh... Harv... Harvey? C-can we pluh... Can we p-please truh-try another puh-puhh-position? Pruh... Pretty... Pretty p-please?

Harvey: Why certainly, dear. Why didn't you say so sooner?

Without missing a stroke, Birdman pulls out of the intern's slop-covered va-jay-jay, jamming himself into her...

Judy: HOLY JEEZUS JOSEPH AND MARY!

Startled, Avenger jerks awake on his perch, looking around to see what the commotion is. Realizing that it's just Harvey and Judy, still banging away and nothing to be alarmed about, he ruffles his feather and tries to go back to sleep.

Judy half-growls, half-moans through gritted teeth, Harvey's manhood buried deep inside her taut backside. If anything, the sheer amount of come all over her does provide some form of lubrication. Judy grimaces, recoiling at the thought of Harvey going in full-on super-hero-dry. Before she can even begin to think about relaxing, letting her posterior accept the sudden intrusion, Birdman begins his relentless pounding all over again.

Judy: F-F-FUUUUUCK!

Harvey: Alright now, let's watch that language, young lady. But yes, that is the general idea.

An indeterminable amount of time later and Judy has completely collapsed onto the desk. What staying power she thought she had has long since escaped her. The tops of her toes dragging backward across the carpet, thighs banging against the edge of the desk, her entire body heaves and undulates with Harvey's ceaseless pumping.

She's lost count of how many times Harvey has pumped her full of his seed. Over and over again, her belly swelling, finally jetting out of her when she's completely full. What mess Harvey had made of her before switching holes, without even looking at it, Judy can tell that it was nothing in comparison to this. The sticky slapping, tendrils of fluid running down the backs of her knees, all the way down to her ankles...she can even feel it oozing between her stocking-covered toes.

Laying face down in a pool of her own sweat and drool, Judy's eyes flutter open, trying to focus on the wall clock.

Judy: (thinking) Jesus! Does that say seven thirty?

Having maybe thirty minutes before the staff of Sebben and Sebben begins to filter in, Judy raises a trembling finger in a feeble attempt to get Birdman's attention. Raising her head, a post-it note stuck to her cheek, Judy looks over her shoulder. He doesn't even look tired...giving Judy a self-serving grin as he continues to pummel her backside.

Judy: Huuh... Harvey? Muh... Maybe w-we sh-should...

Harvey: Change positions? So soon?

Judy: Nuh... Nuh... No. It's t-time to...

Harvey: Wait. Hang on. Hold that thought!

Judy groans, the sound coming out of her in halting, ever-quickening jolts as Harvey thrusts into her harder and harder. Tears well up in the corner of her eyes, fingernails digging into the hardwood desktop, her stammering groan tapers off to a high-pitched squeal as Birdman explodes inside her. Every void and cavity inside her rump is instantly filled, her protruding belly raising her lower body a full three inches off the desk.

Harvey abruptly pulls out of her and steps back, a thick thread of goo suspended between his manhood and Judy's cake-battered rump. Judy allows herself a long, labored sigh, finally free of the pressure and the walloping monster. The dam broken, what easily feels like a quart of Harvey's spunk comes gushing out...ribbons of the translucent gloop cascading down her inner thighs.

Arms shaking, ab muscles quivering, she pushes her upper body off the desk...a perfect Judy-shaped sweat-silhouette on the desk blotter. Her knees, however, just can't take it...having numbed and fallen asleep long ago. Buckling, she slips off the edge of the desk. To put an exclamation point on just how utterly gook-covered she is, Judy's derriere hits the carpet with an audible, wet -SPLAT-.

Sitting in the middle of an almost cartoonish-looking splatter-puddle of Harvey's leavings, her head hanging, eyelids growing heavier and heavier, Judy is utterly spent. Every part of her is sore, from her neck to the tips of her toes...she can't feel her posterior, the entire region tingling with the sensation of pins and needles. If it weren't for something brushing against her cheek she probably would have fallen asleep. Birdman, now standing directly in front of her, casually leans against the edge of his desk as he eyes his bedraggled-looking intern

Harvey: Uh-ohhh. Looks like I've found a clean spot, Avenger.

At this point the bird hardly acknowledges him, preoccupied with sharpening his talons with an emery board. Quite literally, the only part of Judy's body that isn't covered in awful is her face.

Harvey: Open wide!

Judy scarcely has time to protest. Harvey, grabbing either side of her head, yanking her forward, the head of his goo-covered member pressing against her lips.

Judy: VUH FWUCK, HARFEE!

Her only saving grace is the goo itself, his massive third leg smearing her lipstick as it slips across her cheek. Judy, her arms flailing, somehow manages to grab the swaying monster before Harvey can realign himself. Even his manhood seems to have super-human strength...it's like trying to wrestle a Burmese python.

Harvey: Now, now. We'll have none of that potty-talk, you lady. Remember, you're the one who wanted to change...

Before he can finish his sentence the intercom on his desk emits a buzzing noise, the speaker crackling with the voice of...

Phil: (over the intercom) Birdman, get in here!

Harvey: Huh. He's here awfully early.

Judy, her eyes suddenly wide with alarm, continues to wrangle Birdman's seemingly feral serpent.

Judy: Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod! He knows! He knows we're...!

Harvey: Ohh, relax. How could he possibly know? It's not like he's got cameras in all of the offices. Right, Avenger?

Avenger: Caw!

Harvey: Caw? Oh, come on. You two are just being paranoid. He probably just has some new, hair-brained case for me.

Avenger gestures toward the ceiling with a backward wobble of his head. An ancient CCTV camera above the door whirs, panning towards Harvey.

Harvey: (pointing at the camera) Wait... How long has that been there?

The naked intern ducks down, hiding behind the desk, inadvertently snatching Harvey's manhood down with her.

Harvey: Ooof!

Several minutes and a pair of pants later, Harvey opens the door to Phil's office and pokes his head in.

Harvey: You wanted to see me, Phil?

Phil: (pointing at an end table) Sit down, Birdman!

Harvey: (looking at the chair next to him) Ummmm...

Phil: (pointing randomly as Harvey sits on the table) Not there! There! Not there! There!

Phil: (as Harvey sits in the chair) Birdman, I've got a missing daughter case for you.

Harvey: Hah! Did some rich, billionaire's daughter run off with a beatnik and join a cult?

Phil: It's my daughter, smart guy!

Harvey: Ohhh. Right. Judy. About her... She's... Uhhh...

In a scatter-brain save, just about to tell his boss that Judy is actually in his office, Harvey cuts himself off...instantly imagining Phil standing next to a whirring wood chipper.

Harvey: Errr... Isn't this more of a private investigator kinda thing?

Phil: This one's strictly off the books, Birdman. Capiche? Oh, and I need to borrow that new intern of yours while you're out.

Harvey: Ummm...

Phil: You know, the one with the bird fetish? Mine quit...and filed a sexual harassment complaint. Changed her name and moved to Bora Bora. Yours, however, needs to get broken in, good and proper.

In the corner of the room, a smiling bear cracks a bullwhip.

Harvey: (annoyed) Great. Zero billable hours.

Phil: Ha ha ha! Pro-bone-oh.

Back in Harvey's office, Judy is in a much more 'revealing' predicament. Other than the slop-covered stockings she's wearing, she's completely nude...all of her other clothes are still in the break room. Normally she'd bring a set of workout clothes with her...yoga in the company gym...but this hasn't exactly been a normal day. The only thing she has in her duffel bag is her Birdgirl mask...having inconveniently left her workout clothes in her gym locker the day before.

There's no telling how long Harvey will be tied up with Phil...if he even remembers she's still in his office...and it's just a matter of time until one of his clients comes wandering in. Or, worse still, a certain purple hippopotamus might come barging in. Aside from pulling down a set of window drapes and going toga-style, her only real option is to make a break for it.

Donning the mask, she cracks the door open and peeks out into the outer office. It looks like the coast is clear. Tip-toeing to the hallway door, she does much the same...then sprints down the hallway towards the break room, breasts and butt cheeks jiggling as she leaves a trail of pearlescent ooze drops the entire way. In her haste, however, Judy fails to see Birdman's secretary, sitting at her desk...the impassive clerical worker eyeing the naked, splurge-covered intern as she sneaks by.

Secretary: Nice ass. Poor choice in men.

Just in the nick of time, Judy runs into the canteen as Peter Potamus steps out of his office...on his way, to inquire if Birdman has received that thing he sent him.

Potamus: (sniffing, nostrils flaring) Mein Gott! It stinks like sex out here!

A short while later, foregoing any underwear or a blouse...her coat and miniskirt sticking to her enough as it is...Judy makes her way to the gym for a much-needed shower...and an aspirin or three. Wearing her dagger-like stilettos, however, was probably not such a great idea...nearly falling over a half dozen times, her slick stockings sliding around inside the patent leather heels.

Sometime later, Harvey now in search of his boss's "lost daughter", Birdgirl gets a call on her cell phone. She's been summoned to Phil's office. Having not had enough time to run home and change into some more appropriate, Judy...now 'disguised' as Birdgirl...is forced to wear her workout clothes.

Birdgirl: Yuh... You w-wanted to see me, Mr. Sebben?

Phil: Yes, come in, Birdgirl.

Phil eyes her tight, pink yoga pants and white, low-cut leotard combo with a lecherous grin...her breasts practically spilling out of the stretchy fabric, the thin pants creeping up her butt crack.

Phil: Oh, hey...is it casual Friday already?

Birdgirl: I... Umm... It's, uhhh... (smiling sheepishly) Laundry day?

Phil: Ha ha! Hamper full of undies.

Birdgirl crosses her arms in front of her chest, looking away as she gives the president of the firm an uncomfortable grimace.

Phil: So, which do you prefer, Bird or Miss Girl?

Birdgirl: Just Birdgirl.

Phil: Alright, fine. So, Birdgirl, what made you choose a career in law...other than the exorbitant paycheck, hot interns at your every beckon and call, and-or sleeping with your extremely well-hung boss's boss?

Birdgirl: I uhhhh...

Phil: Why don't you take a load off and make yourself comfortable. I'll pour us a couple of drinks while you think about it.

Judy begins to sit down in one of the chairs opposite Phil's desk.

Phil: No, no...on the much more position-friendly couch over there.

Judy: Position-friend...? Ohhhh. (sighs heavily) Right, you mean...

Phil: Sexual congress. Copulation. Making the bald man cry in a long, dark tunnel.

Trying to look as demure as possible, her current attire not doing her any favors, Judy crosses her legs as she sits down on the button-tufted, leather couch.

Birdgirl: (thinking out loud) Oh my god oh my god oh my god, I think he's hitting on me! If I reveal my secret identity he'll know I'm really his... And if I don't he'll continue to... Leading to... Eeeuuww!

Cocktail shaker in hand, Phil quires the perplexed-looking redhead.

Phil: You say something, dear?

Birdgirl: No, Dadd... Errrr, I mean... No, Mr. Sebben.

Phil: Please, call me Phil. Here...

Phil hands Birdgirl a vodka martini and sits down next to her, leisurely placing his arm across the back of the couch behind her.

Phil: Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker I always sex... Say! I always SAY!

Birdgirl: Daddy, I really don't think this is... Oooo! No! I mean...

Phil slips a finger underneath Birdgirl's should strap, pulling the elastic fabric down her shoulder. Wide-eyed, Judy practically slaps her already sore breast as she quickly attempts to keep it from popping out...having done so, she lets out a groan of discomfort. Undaunted, Phil repeats the process with her other shoulder strap. Fumbling to set her drink down, Judy now covers both breasts...refraining from slapping them a second time.

Phil: Yes, call me Daddy. Ha ha ha! Tongue slip.

Original Art by HD-2
Commissioned by Phillipthe2